


Good For The Soul

by princesskay



Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 01, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: "You promised to hurt me."A single text sets the mood for their evening.





	Good For The Soul

For an hour she laid in her bed, listening to the rain dance against her windowpane, and scrolling aimlessly through her phone. 

_ Patience is a virtue.  _ Her mother used to scold her. 

She had never mastered it, no matter how many times her mother had reminded her. If anything, her insatiability had only gotten worse with time. Worse now that  _ he  _ was in her life. 

Zoe glanced down at her phone, expecting it to vibrate anytime now. 

He usually texted her when he arrived so that she could open the door immediately. 

_ Usually.  _ She thought, ruefully. 

As if they had some sort of routine already. It had only been twice. But between that first blazingly hot, aberrant encounter and this moment, she felt she’d lived and experienced a lifetime. The world looked different - bigger, brighter, bolder. Opportunity stood behind every door. 

And him. 

Frank. 

Francis. 

She wondered what his wife might think of her calling him that. 

She couldn’t pry from him much on the topic of Claire. A few passing remarks, a look in his eyes, a faint smile was all she could piece together about their relationship. She had to admit, it was stronger than she first thought. But she wasn’t intimidated. 

She and Francis had something entirely different. 

They slipped together between the shadows of night and the first rays of dawn, their desires whispered not shouted, their need coarse and sinful. She found nothing elegant about it - but elegance was the least of her worries. She didn’t mind getting down in the dirt for him. 

Zoe jarred when her phone vibrated. She clicked the screen on, searching eagerly for a text. Much to her dismay, it was only a Twitter notification - and nothing interesting in the least. 

Swearing under her breath, she rolled onto her side and yanked the pillow firmly under her head. Casting a narrowed gaze at the door, she willed him to walk through. She could imagine it now - his confident swagger, the roiling heat in his gaze, the determined set of his jaw. He could crush her with that look. 

Zoe let her eyes slip shut, her imagination wander. 

She could see him in her mind, striding across her apartment, throwing his coat and briefcase aside. Taking her, pinning her to the bed, bruising her neck with his kisses. Heat churned between her legs as she thought of him slipping his hand beneath her panties to stroke her, the hard ridges of his fingertips roughly bringing her to orgasm. 

Zoe pressed a hand against her crotch, hissing with arousal. 

Damn him for making her her wait. 

She hesitated for only a second longer before shoving her shorts and panties down around her ankles, and pressing her fingers between her legs. With a few strokes, her labia parted to spill slick heat over her fingertips. An ache speared through her as she swirled her fingers against her opening, and gradually, painfully up over her clitoris. Her body quaked with radiating need, the arousal that had started as an irritating pang building to a clenching, throbbing rhythm. 

Gasping, she kicked the shorts from her ankles, and threw her legs open wide. She delved two fingers into the wet, hot opening of her pussy, eviscerating herself with sharp arousal. She moaned aloud as she pumped her fingers in and out. The slick sound of her fingers gliding on abundant wetness sent hot shivers up and down her body, adding to the pressure compounding between her legs. 

She could feel the orgasm beginning to crest inside her when the sound of her phone vibrating again slashed like ice water through her brain. Her eyes sprung open, blinking away the sparkling lights of pleasure flashing behind her lids. Fingers trembling, she patted across the mattress for the phone. Her fingers curled around the device, bringing it up above her face. She clicked on the screen, and felt her heart begin to race when she saw the message waiting for her. 

_ I’m here.  _

She licked her lips, thinking she should probably get her fingers out from between her legs. She didn’t know exactly what he would do if he found her this way, but she had a few ideas that made her legs weak. 

Keeping her fingers pressed between her legs, she used her left hand to type out a short reply. 

_ Door’s open.  _

She held her breath, ears straining. She could hear a car door slam from the street below, the low intonation of Francis’ voice telling his driver to wait. 

Zoe bit her lower lip as she gently rubbed her clitoris to keep the aching arousal alive. Stroking herself, she held the phone up again to type out a second message. 

_ You still haven’t given me what I want.  _

She waited, breath trapped in her lungs. Three dots popped up next to his icon, indicating he was replying. 

_ And what is that?  _

_ You promised to hurt me.  _

Her stroking fingers paused when the message went through but no reply came. For a moment, she wondered if she had been too bold, but the sound of his footfalls on the stairs chased away the notion that he held propriety in any regard. 

This was the nature of their relationship. She shouldn’t be afraid to ask for anything - at least in the bedroom. 

She sound of the doorknob turning sent her heart thudding like a bass drum. She could hardly draw a breath against the thudding in her chest as the door swung open, and he stepped inside. 

She dropped the phone to the bed, turning all her attention between her thighs. Closing her eyes, she touched herself in lavish strokes as Francis’ footsteps progressed across the apartment. She could hear him breathing above the sound of her heartbeat. The air rippled and sparked with his presence, urging her need even higher. 

“You thought this would anger me?” 

She opened her eyes slowly to see him standing at the end of the bed, his head cocked curiously, his hands resting casually in his pockets. 

“It does something to you, doesn’t it?” 

“What you do in your free time is up to you.” 

“Don’t be coy - you _ like _ controlling me.” 

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, but hardly made it’s way to face. His expression remained as calm as a serendipitous lake, though his eyes bespoke the dark undercurrent below the surface. 

He withdrew his hand from his pocket, and wagged a finger at her. 

“Take your hand away.” 

She bit back a shuddering breath, and obeyed. Her hand fell against the sheets, fingers wet with her own desires. 

“Open your legs wider. Show me.” 

She spread her legs across the sheets, her body pulsating with need. Arousal twisted through her belly with his every command, leaving her painfully turned on, and dripping with need. She could feel it gushing from her; her face grew hot, knowing he could see it. 

“This little situation you’ve created appeals to you greatly, doesn’t it?” He asked. 

She nodded, biting at her lower lip. 

“What is it you want me to do?” 

“You’ve …” She began, her voice coming out high-pitched and thin. She closed her eyes, pressing on, “... you’ve talked about punishing me.” 

“Mm.” 

She forced her eyes open, turning a pleading gaze on him. 

He gazed at her a moment longer before reaching up to unbutton his jacket. He slid out of the garment, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. He turned his focus to opening his cufflinks. 

Without looking up, he asked, “Did you come?” 

“No.” She breathed out. 

“But you were close.”

“Yes.” 

“You want to come now. You’re aching for it.” 

She swallowed thickly, and managed a nod as he looked up to pin her with a branding hot gaze. 

“So, which is you want, Miss Barnes? Pleasure or pain, which first?” 

“You’re in charge.” She whispered. 

He smiled softly as he opened the last button of his shirt, and dragged it away from his shoulders. 

“You want someone to guide you? To tell you what to do? When to speak, when to moan … when to come?” 

“You’re that person.” 

He dropped the shirt to the ground, and stepped around the corner of the bed. 

A fission of need rippled down her body as he approached, his hands loose but carrying dangerous intent. 

“Turn over.” He said. 

Zoe rolled onto her stomach, bending her arms under herself to cover her mouth with her knuckles. 

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he ran his gaze up and down her half-naked body. She dug her knees into the mattress, lifting her hips slightly to offer him a better view. 

He reached out to touch her, his fingers grazing feather-light over the swell of her ass and down the back of her thigh. When he reached her inner knee, his fingers clamped down. Zoe bit back a gasp as he dragged her legs across the mattress, and over his knee. Her hips rested against his thigh, her legs dangling toward the floor, her face pressed into the tangled sheets.

He placed an almost gentle hand against her lower back, ensuring she stayed put. His other palm stroked her backside, sending pleasure stampeding through her belly.

Silence stretched on, leaving her shuddering, hardly breathing with anticipation. Wave after wave of need rolled through her belly, crashing hard against her already wet, aching flesh. 

When his touch slid away, she pried her eyes open to see him raising his hand. 

Her chest pounded, and between her legs, she throbbed with some underdeveloped deviance, a protracted fantasy she’d tried to ignore but couldn’t deny. In the space of an hour, she’d turned the thought to reality - and beneath layers of quivering need and the squirming idea of punishment, she was proud of herself for getting what she wanted. 

With a resonating crack, his hand came down across her ass. All linear thought shattered into pleasure and pain. The blow sent a hot course of burning pain through her skin and into her belly, where she swelled and ached with twisted humiliation. 

“Oh!” She cried, grabbing onto the sheets. 

His palm settled firmer against her lower back, holding her down as his other hand swung a second time.

She jerked across his thighs, her lips clamping down around another moan. 

Decisive and unerring, his palm dealt out the third blow, shattering her barely scraped together composure, leaving her squirming and gasping against the sheets. The pain rippled through her body, hot needles embedding burning patches into her skin. 

Francis remained reticent, his gaze focused on her skin blooming with red. She watched over her shoulder as his hand cocked back to deliver the fourth spanking. His head was bent, his eyes searing into her tingling, throbbing ass. The smallest smile curled his mouth as his hand cracked across her skin, wrenching a moan from her throat. She wiggled across his thigh, her body both longing to escape and begging for more. 

He’d primed her with the first few. The next spankings came quicker, harder, sending licking heat across her ass, etching the pain into her skin. The rhythmic sound of his palm meeting her bare skin echoed through her brain, making the humiliation of her position unmistakable even with her eyes pressed shut. 

She took each one with a sharp whimper and a jerk of her hips, fighting him just hard enough to make him respond with a harsher blow and a firmer grip on her lower back. 

His palm cracked across her backside with blistering efficiency, sending her from pain, to pleasure, back to cold-hot pain. The pleasant burning evolved to an aching rawness, pressing shocked tears into the corner of her eyes that she barely acknowledged. Her body was on fire, crying out in freshly realized bliss, her pussy throbbing and dripping with unsatisfied need. She didn’t want him to stop - and if he stopped all she wanted was him to use the same amount of lethal, devastating precision between her legs. 

Zoe gasped in a breath when the blows came to a sudden halt. Blinking back the sheen of moisture in her eyes, she threw a gaze back to see him inspecting her reddened flesh, his thumb stroking over the raw curve of her ass. 

“Is that what you wanted?” He asked, softly. 

She swallowed, her tongue thick with shock and pleasure. She nodded into the sheets hot with her shallow, racing breaths. 

“How badly does it hurt?” 

She pressed her eyes shut, willing her voice to speak. 

“Pretty bad. It feels like my skin is on fire.” 

His gaze slid up the curve of her back like a scalpel, peeling back the pretense, the facade. He could see her - knew every secret. She felt utterly naked under his gaze, and the vulnerability of her soul alone frightened her. 

“That was nothing.” He murmured. “I could hurt you much worse.” 

Her heart began to gallop once more, her head spinning with a fresh dose of need. She felt as if she were walking up to the very edge of a tall building, and looking down. The urge to jump is sharp, intense, but the fall alone could kill her. She can feel them breaking past whatever boundaries they had set out, destroying any thought of controlling the momentum of their mutual desires. There’s no stopping desire as potent as this. 

“Then do it.” She whispered. 

“Are you sure you can handle it?” 

“I’m sure.” 

“Do you want me to make you cry?” 

“Do you want to see me cry?” She asked, “I can do that for you, Francis.”

“I asked what  _ you  _ want. Tonight is all about you, Zoe.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re not getting any enjoyment out of this.” 

“It was your idea.” 

“But you like it.” 

He paused for only a second before tilting his head. “I do.” 

“Then go ahead. Hurt me.” 

He turned his gaze back to her arched backside, a smile ghosting across his mouth. His palm slid over her ass, and she winced against the ache that rippled through her. His hand circled, massaging the pain into her skin, fondling her gently. She bit on her lower lip to conceal the low whimpers, knowing he would take it as a sign she couldn’t handle what was coming next. 

Her eyes rolled back, pleasure dropping low in her belly when his massaging shifted down lower until his fingers were probing between her legs. She opened her thighs in invitation, and uttered a shaking gasp as his fingertips slid through the copious arousal pooling against her tender folds.

He nudged her legs open wider, and she accommodated without hesitation. His fingers dragged down her slick, throbbing slit to find her clitoris swollen and tender. She lurched against his thigh as he caressed her softly, bringing the steady, thrumming need to a screaming demand. Between her legs, everything went painfully tight and hot, pushing her to a dizzying peak of arousal. She was pulsing right along the edge of orgasm, so close she could almost feel the shudders taking over, but just far enough away to leave her quaking, half-sobbing with unsatisfied need. 

“Oh, fuck.” She moaned, dragging her nails across the sheets. “Francis, please.” 

He stroked her for hardly a moment longer before withdrawing his hand entirely. 

She gasped, her eyes flying open. Turning a gaze over her shoulder, ready to condemn him, she saw his hand drawing back above his shoulder. 

“Oh-” 

The cry hadn’t entirely left her lips when his hand came down, cracking severely across her ass. Hot pain spilled across her senses, clashing with the throbbing pleasure still hanging on between her thighs. The blissful weakness in her belly twisted into fresh, bolting need, the sensation of lightning cutting across her skin and into her pussy. 

The room tilted with dizzying pleasure and burning pain, lifting her from her reality and landing her somewhere between fetish fiction and a disjointed wet dream. 

She couldn’t quite believe that this was real - but the resolute crack of his palm across her ass and the ensuing lick of pain were evidence enough of the opposite. And that evidence came on repeat, one spanking after the next, splitting her open, filling with aching, burning need, bringing her to the pinnacle of arousal. His hand, strong and big and calloused, reached every inch, leaving no bit of skin unpunished, and layering over already red, burning skin with fresh handprints. Each blow was measured and deliberate, no hesitation. No mercy. 

She found herself gasping and whimpering into the sheets, her eyes burning, and finally, despite her pride, spilling hot tears of pain and bursting need. 

“Francis …” She cried, twisting against her leg, “Francis, please!”

The spankings came to a sudden halt, leaving her skin absorbing the pain and humming with the friction. 

His palm settled against her thigh, docile as if he had never struck her. 

She sniffled into the sheets, fighting through the residual pain with a clenched jaw. 

His hand tightened slowly around her thigh, dragging her legs open again. She quieted, pleasure rising up to swallow the pain. Spreading her legs to his gentle urging, she closed her eyes in building anticipation. 

His fingers slid over her wet pussy, massaging her tender labia for a few aching moments before pressing his fingers into her. She gasped, arching against his leg as two fingers split her open, and delved in to the knuckle. 

“Oh …” She panted. 

Pleasure rushed in to fill her chest and belly, mingling with the low, remaining hum of pain. She tilted her hips up, eagerly offering herself to him. 

He pumped his fingers languidly in and out of her, nurturing the pleasure spiraling through her belly. She whined, pushing back against him for more. 

“Oh … oh, please…” She whispered, her voice faint and fractured with desire. 

His fingers slipped out of her, leaving her aching and empty for a few torturous seconds before curling forward to rub her clitoris. Pleasure bounded hot and quick through her, and she writhed against his thigh, her nails tearing at the sheets. 

The massage lasted bare, blissful seconds before he pulled his hand away. She whined, bereft and aching, wobbling on the verge of orgasm. 

Taking her by the hips, he turned her onto her back. She spilled back against the sheets, blinking up at him in a hazy state of near orgasm. 

“Take your shirt off.” He said, rising to his feet. 

Limbs thick and languid with arousal, she struggled to pull the shirt off over her head. As it cleared her eyes, she saw him unbuckling his belt. She tossed the shirt aside, and drew in a shuddering breath, presenting her bare breasts, nipples pink and hard with excitement. 

He dropped his trousers, leaving his boxers to hold back the heavy thickness of his erection. She bit at her lip to quell a moan, her brain erupting with recent memories of his cock fucking into her. 

He sank to his knees, and bent over her, his breath rippling hot down her inner thigh. Locking her fingers around the sheets and spreading her legs wide, she waited impatiently for his mouth to touch her. 

The graze of his lips against her leg sent sparks of need through her body. She resisted the urge to grab his hair, knowing he would reject her trying to take control. She let him take his own pace, burning up inside with raging need, but bound in utter submission by her own fantasies.

His mouth traveled along her inner thigh, leaving behind kisses, the faint scratch of stubble. She moaned aloud when his breath whispered across her aching pussy, teasing her, priming her. She wiggled against the sheets, gnawing at her lower lip in anticipation. The need clawed at her chest, screaming loud through her brain while her mouth remained locked shut. 

When his tongue at last slid along her labia and clitoris, she bucked against his mouth, a sharp moan piercing her throat. He grabbed onto her hips, dragging her against his face, and pinning her to the mattress. His powerful grip kept her trapped helplessly beneath the wet, velvet stroke of his tongue that was rapidly taking her apart. She could only claw at the sheets and moan as the pleasure rushed in to claim her in hot, lambastic surges. The pressure of his tongue circled her clitoris just right, bringing her to the edge of orgasm, and finally, mercifully, let her fall. 

She stiffened for mere seconds as the pleasure clamped down tight in her belly, lurching back into motion when it exploded into bright, spasming relief. She bucked against his grip, and he let her, following the jagged motion of her hips as the pleasure coursed through her. She twisted and arched, moaning raggedly into the sheets, and grabbing at the mattress to ground her. The pleasure chased hot and hard through her, touching every inch like fire, and leaving her aching and weak. 

The wonderful, raw spasms and the burst of light behind her eyes seemed to last an hour before she collapsed to the sheets, trembling with the ferocity of the orgasm. 

Francis lifted his head from between her legs, his gaze questing up her quaking belly and swelling breasts to find her eyes. A pleased smile touched his mouth. 

“I’ve never come that hard in my life.” She whispered. 

He rose to his feet, looming over her like one of the many imposing, granite figures standing cold in the monuments of D.C. 

“I bet you like that more than anything.” She said, lifting her chin in a challenge. 

“I would, if it’s the truth.” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Francis.” 

“But it’s awfully cliched, don’t you think?” 

“Cliched, but still true.” 

“It’s because you go too quickly for the kill, Zoe.” He said, “You want to come immediately, but it’s so much better if you wait.” 

“I can’t help it. I need you to hold me down,  _ make  _ me wait.” 

“To punish you.” He said, softly, his eyes glinting, “Was it good? Was it everything you’d hoped it would be?” 

“And more.” 

“Oh, you love to flatter me, don’t you?” 

“It’s true. No one has ever done that to me before. I didn’t know what it would be like.” 

“But you wanted it so badly. I’m sure you’ve thought of it before me.” 

“I don’t have a lot of time for relationships, much less building up the trust to ask someone else to to do that.”

“You feel you can trust me?” 

“Yes, and I don’t have to explain myself. We’re already doing a lot of dangerous things together. Asking you to spank me is probably the least among our sins.” 

“Depends whose book you’re reading out of.” 

“Where does it fall in yours?” 

He chuckled, not answering, but reaching down to strip out of his boxers. As the fabric came away, she consumed the length of his cock with her gaze, her body humming with fresh desire. 

He crawled onto the bed, and between her legs. As he shifted down to press his cock against her, he murmured, “I’m of the persuasion that pain every once in awhile is good for the soul. A little discipline never hurt anyone.” 

She half-moaned, half-laughed as he slid into her. 

“Has anyone ever done that to you?” 

“That’s none of your business.” 

She grunted as he thrust against her, seating his cock to the hilt inside her. 

“You seemed to enjoy dishing it out.” 

“And you enjoyed taking it, so leave it at that.” 

Taking her wrists, he dragged her arms above her head and pinned her down as his thrusts gained momentum. 

Zoe couldn’t string together another coherent thought with him fucking into her, forceful and persistent. She closed her eyes, listening to their bodies smack together, the low tenor of his groans. She had never been so satisfied - and that most certainly was the truth. 

 

~the end~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr!](http://clairehales.tumblr.com//)!


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